Precipice
by Ethan M
Summary: The events of Tuskos Campaign have been marred by a reapearing entity of what apears to be a dead man. What exactly, or who exactly this being is, man, daemon, friend or foe will challenge the basis of the Imperial Creed Itself.
1. Chapter 1: The First Thing

_The first thing you notice is the smell. Doesn't matter where you're fighting, who're your fighting alongside of, and who or what you're fighting with, death smells the same. Circle of life my ass, there's nothing natural about that aroma, the sickly mix of fear and human waste. Of course, at the time I was too busy regurgitating everything I had eaten over my short seventeen year old life at the time to fully appreciate fully just how incredible the stench of death really is, though I'd like to think I'd gotten the gist of it_

///Vox Log:///

// Transmission to Ostonion High Command from 4th platoon Shield Centurion Yukov Kahtzanik: ///Received at 23:45///

/*Protocol 32: Incoming Vox*/

Yukov; we're moving through the underhive as planned. No sign of the xenos yet sir, so far it seems as if the blue bastards have up and left, can't say I blame'em. This place is a shit-hole sir, if you'll pardon my language, all that's here is rubble, ruins, and shanties. We're approaching the origin of the distress call, and the refinery is in sight. Ill report back in at 24:00. Yukov out.

///Vox ended: 23:46///

_The second thing you notice is the eyes. I've lost a lot of comrades in my time and it still bothers me the way their eyes seem to stare. Looks someone just told them their dads dead and then punched 'em in the stomach. Happened to me once, but that's a whole 'nother story. Then there's the pupils… Looks like someone just drained the color right out of them then smothered them in fog. That was the second thing I noticed, then it was back to the puking._

// Transmission to Ostonion High Command from 4th platoon Shield Centurion Yukov Kahtzanik: ///Received at 23:59///

This is Shield Centurion Yucov Kahtzanik! We are under attack, I repeat we are under attack! The xenos have NOT evacuated the underhive as was previously thought, they are IN THE UNDERHIVE!  
/// Colonel Madaev Grindevalt Connected///

Yukov can you hold?

Madaev? N-No sir, I don't believe we can, half our chimeras are down and at least a third of the men inside them are KI - Holy Throne! Get the Kheck dow-..!

///Vox ended: 24:00///

_The Third thing I noticed was the blood. Tau, Ork, Tyranid,or Eldar, blood is blood. Sure there's some color differences between species, but in the end it does the same job. You take enough of it out of a something and no way in hell is it going to function properly. Sometimes that's the only way to truly kill something that's too stupid to realize it should be dead. After I was done puking I sat up, not relishing the aftertaste of the days rations being forced back up my throat. It was at that point which I began to regain some sense of logical thought, which obviously didn't last long when I realized I was covered in it, the crimson flak vest I was lucky enough to be wearing looking a little bit more… well red then usual, the steel gray fatigues underneath even more so. I'm sure you can imagine what happened next._

//Transmission to Battle group Righteous Hammer from Ostonion High Command//

///Received at 24:45///

/*Protocol 32: Incoming Vox*/

Casualties Report

Ostonion 38th Rifles; Platoon Four- one Hundred Guardsman- KIA

4th Voytarian Penal legion; Third Expiditionary Force- 80 guardsman- KIA


	2. Chapter 2: And Another Thing

**Chapter 2**

And Another Thing

_Now, I don't know about you; but waking up in a pile of dead corpses generally isn't the way I'd choose to start a day. To make matters worse not only was I waking up in a pile of dead corpses, I woke up to a Tau patrol shooting anything that moved. Now here I was in an interesting predicament. I'm alive. I don't have a gun. I don't have a gun, I cant shoot the thing that wants to kill me. If I go to get a gun the thing that wants to kill me kills me. I don't get the gun the thing that wants to kill me kills me anyway. Now to a logical mind that's a heavy decision to make. To the mind of a fresh recruit covered in the blood of his friends and comrades its simply mind boggling. So I sat there like a damn grox in a swimming pool, watching as the tau patrol drew closer. I don't know if you've ever seen a Tau fire squad in action, but it's a scary thing. Here they are, 5 aliens in armor with big guns and no recognizable facial features, save the two vertical eyepieces in the center of the helmet. Speaking of which, I've never truly understood why they made their helmets like that. The bastards have two eyes in the same general position as us humans. The other thing that bothers me about them is that unless you shoot them or stab them, they don't make any noises. All vox communication is done through comms I would assume. Still though, seeing a squad silently wheel around and start spitting blue fire at you is a slightly discomforting experience. But I'm getting off topic. Right back to life or death._

_So I just sat there, taking in the scene before my eyes. I was lying on top of a few cadavers, a few penal legionnaires by the look of it. Before me was the refinery and I swear to you this day I still have nightmares of the thing. The place was choked with charred steel skeletons of chimeras, their hulls still splashed with red where soldiers were vaporized by the Tau's Guns. Impressive things those bloody things are, they cut through plascrete like khecking fire through paper. Dead bodies littered the yard, too many to count (though I'm told now that it was at max one hundred and seventy eight, seemed a lot more at the time though), dead of either shrapnel or plasma wounds. The plasma ones were the worst, the smell of death is bad but the smell of cooked flesh? I don't care for it, ask one of the pyromaniacs who drive the hell hounds however and they'll tell you differently. Sorry, getting off topic again. So here I was mustering up my best defenses (mild twitching for the most part). Watching as one of the damn Fire warriors (apparently that's what they call themselves) gets closer and closer to me, shooting just about every dead body that shows even a sign of thinking about getting up again. An unpleasant circumstance to be alive in. I mean I knew I had to do something but really, what could I do that wouldn't result in me just being shot faster?_

_Waiting to die is a strange experience, because you know that in a few seconds you're either going to be dancing with the Emperor or having your soul repeatedly raped in the warp, and yet instead of thinking about how great or how bad your life is, or what you have and haven't done, you're too busy trying not to crap or piss yourself to really appreciate just how fragile life truly is._

… _Or maybe that's just me._

\\\

//Personal Data Log of 4th platoon Shield Centurion Yukov Kahtzanik

_If you'll pardon my interruption. Most data logs logged by Shield Centurion Yukov are somewhat vague and disconjointed. It seems now that he suffered from OCD, and felt the need to write down each and every thought he had in his spare time- Inquisitor Tiberius_

5/6 (no information as to the year is given)

Working along side the Penal Legionnaires is giving me a headache. They're rowdy, even though they've been condemned to death, they gamble, even though they don't have any money to gamble with (Note to self: Investigate source of Penal Legionnaires income) and they worship the emperor even though most of the forsook him a long time ago. They truly confound me. Also, look into 'Sergeant' Auksas rodykle. The man is a mix of a prophet and a serial killer, Emperor forbid I found out what he did to get stuck in with the penal legionnaires…

\\\

I remember guardsman diumondo. Odd name that, certainly nothing that I had heard growing up. He was a nice boy, a bit loud but he meant well. We had gone through basic together, two years of training to be a warrior of the emperor. Here I was waiting for this Fire Warrior to come over and shoot me in the face (that's right I was still waiting, twitching remember?) and not ten yards in front of me I see the poor bastard. He's lying on the ground with a foot long piece of shrapnel embedded in his stomach from one of our chimerasI recognized the camo pattern) The worst part of it is that the kid is still alive, and he's watching the tau come closer and closer. He knows he's not gunna make it, you can't survive a stomach wound like that without the help of a tech priest. The worst part of that is that it takes days to die from a wound like that. Well I notice that I'm not the only one that's witnessed the dying kid lying on the concrete, blood pooling on the ground out of him as he draws a few last rattling breaths. The tau turn towards him, walks over and places his plasma rifle against his head… Poor poor Diumondo. I hear him draw another rattling breath and mumble from blood flecked lips 'please, wai-'

I looked away

I heard the shot

I heard the moan.

The bastard had shot him in the shoulder… didn't even have the respect to finish him off. I heard a crackling emit from the tau's helmet as he switched on his external vox 'There is no Mercy for Gue'la pigs,' and walk away from the sobbing, bleeding boy.

It is at that point that, like a phantom, a corpse rose up behind the Fire Warrior, covered in soot and blood, and rammed a combat blade through the back of the Tau's helmet, and tip exploding through the central eye socket in a welter of blood. The Tau swayed on the spot for a few seconds, as the warrior behind him breathed heavily, seemingly in a trance, muttered 'You Heathen scum come to defile this planet of the Emperor', then twisted the blade, more blood hemorrhaging out of the wound, 'You shall receive only misfortune. I am a tool of his will, a conduit for his holy wrath. You come to seek glory. You come to seek Richs. You will find only Death Xenos," and ripped his sowrd out of Tau's head. Its skull gave in and it clattered to the floor in a pool of blood.

The specter turned and looked at me, his eyes still glazed over, and spoke to me.

'We Stand upon the Precipice of fate as tools of his vengeful will. We are faced with a choice; to act or be destroyed. I've made my choice; its time you made yours brother."

And with that he turned to the rest of the fire warrior squad. All of whom might I add, were pointing very large guns directly towards his head.

It was a strange turn of events.

\\\

//After action report filed by Colonel Madaev of the Ostonion 38th Rifles//

4th expeditionary force ambushed at Rahzav Refinery

Ostonion 38th Rifles; Platoon Four: One Known survivor- Private Zatzaev Vocolocov

Voytarian 4th Penal legion; Third Expiditionary Force: One Known Survivor- Legionnaire Auksas Rodykle.

//End transmittion//


	3. Chapter 3: But I digress

**Chapter 3:**

But I digress

Serving as a guardsman, you begin to grow a certain appreciation for death. Perhaps it's the rousing cries of the commissar's 'Glory to the first man to die!' Or perhaps it's gaining an understanding that in a single war an entire planet can be lost, destroyed and forgotten. Everyone who's ever lived on it, everything that's ever happened on it, every drop of rain that's fallen on its surface to every drop of blood that's been shed over it, gone. And yet maybe, instead of all this, I gained such an appreciation simply by watching a killing machine so efficient that it seems almost super natural.

… But I digress

\\\

// Voytarian 4th Penal legion; Third Expeditionary Force Records

// Subject CB17: Auksas Rodykle.

//Penal Service: Life

//Crime: Butchery of the Emperor's Subjects

//Mental Evaluation: Highly Unstable

//Notes: Subject CB17, despite his heinous crimes, seeks redemption for them through service to the emperor. I have yet to see a more dedicated fanatic them him, and it would do us well to use that to our advantage.

//Recommendation: Immediate posting to the front lines

\\\

So there he stood

Facing off against four very khecked off Tau, all pointing very large, and very shooty guns at him. They were doing that creepy silent communication thing again seeking conformation of what just happened.

Perhaps I was imagining but time seemed to slow. I could hear the sound of the burning wrecks crackling and popping as the metal warped and twisted. I could hear the sound of the flies as they gorged themselves on their unseeing pray. I could see each individual scar on his body, and most of all I could see his hand tightening las pistol tucked in his belt.

Now I don't know if you have ever seen a hotshot lasgun or pistol in action but it's quite a sight to behold. I've yet to see weapons of its size that can cut through armor so fast while unleashing such a torrent of fire power. And it was at that point I think that I realized what this insane penal legionnaire planned to do.

This whole standoff had lasted only about four seconds. Right about now however time snapped back into action, as the Legionnaire whipped the pistol up and dove to his right, firing off two shots like an old hero from the holovids. Again time seemed to slow, as one the fire squad spat blue fire right where the trooper used to be. And I swear to you I could see the man's flak jacket sizzle as the plasma rounds passed right over him. Now time sped up again, and I watched in shock as the two shots he had fired smashed right into the faceplates of and equal amount of tau warriors, cutting through their helmets like a butchers knife through grox meat. The las bolts more or less caused the xenos's heads to explode, crass as it sounds, and their bodies flew backwards in a puddle of gore., bone, and gristle. A fantastic view as one can imagine.

It took the other two fire warriors a moment to fully comprehend what had just happened, and as they spun attempting to track their target, he finished his dive and rolled lithely on to his feat. With a swift flick of his wrist flung his combat blade into the first Fire Warriors neck, sending the Xenos hurtling backwards with the force of the blow, his head just about clean separated from his neck. The last remaining Tau gunmen tried to bring his gun to bear on the legionnaire but he was too slow and the man had already charged in the warrior , knocking him off his feet. The Tau scrambled to regain his footing but the blood soaked daemon had already fallen on him, pinning him to the grown as he tore at the alien's helmet. The tau franticly tried to knock the man off, but his blows had little effect other than to make the gray haired warrior growl as he pried the fire warriors helm from his armor. He finally succeeded in ripping it off and the xenos franticly screeched into his comm. bead.

Auksus, as I later learned was his name stared down at the alien with a burning hatred in his eyes, and spoke, 'This is the emperor's world, and I shall not have you defile it with your presence,' and drew back a fist and slammed it into the xenos's skull, where it impacted with a sickening crack. The Fire warrior shouted as Auksus brought his first back and rammed it again and again into the Alien's skull, each time the sound of splintering bone sounded, until finally the twitching creature lay still, blood running from its head down the rivets of the cement. Auksus stood up breathing heavily, and as the alien twitched again swiftly drew his pistol and shot in the head, spraying the pavement with even more blood. He then turned to me and I noticed some color returning to his glaciar white eyes said, 'Pan w swojej decyzji towarzysz?' I later learned this translated roughly to Have you made your decision comrade?'

It was at this point my body decided that the most plausible reaction to this new chain of events would be to assume the tried and true approach. And with that I vomited and passed out again.

Once again, a strange turn of events.

\\\

//Log of squad Haufnovik

Thirty minutes before the ambush at the refinery

// Sergeant Haufnovik: Look sharp comrades, the refinery is up ahead, make sure you've got a locked bayonet and fresh cell in your gun, I have a bad feeling about this place.

//Guardsman Diomundo: Krak or Frags sir?

//Sergeant Haufnovik: Frag, if we're going to go up against any tau you need to be able to hit as many of the bastards as possible… and turn the damn safety off your grenade launcher Hauff!

//Guardsman Diomundo: Oh sh- sorry sir, I missed that

//Commissar Bemonov: See to it your incompetence does not threaten your comrades Guardsman.

//Guardsman Diomundo: Ye-Yes Comrade Commissar!

//Sergeant Haufnovik: Do you want to threaten the rest of my damn soldiers or are you quite finished?

//Commissar Bemonov: Sergeant if your colonel is not immune to my judgment neither are you. My pistol can kill a tau as fast as it can kill a traitor… keep that in mind now get moving. We have a job to do and I will have it be delayed by your utterly incompetent leadership Haufnofik.

//Sergeant Haufnovik: Of course…sir.,,, The Emperor Wills it.

//Guardsman Macnaloff: … Holy throne Hauf are you trying to get us all shot? God damnit you should know as well as all of us he'll shoot us if we give him the chance without thinking twice!

//Sergeant Haufnovik: Mac I swear to the Emperor you speak to me like that and I'LL khecking shoot you!

//Guardsman Macnaloff: I don't give a-

*Guardsman Macnaloff is listed as KIA at this point*

//Guardsman Fichnik: Sweet Throne of the Emperor!

//Commissar Bemonov: Just because I walk ten feet away does not mean I cannot hear you.

//Sergeant Haufnovik: What in the fucking hell did you do that for?!

//Commissar Behmonov: In subordination will not tolerated in the Ostonion Guard. Now I'm slightly curious of what the hell I have to do to get your squad moving Haufnovik? Need I shoot the remainder of your squad? Or perhaps just you?

//Sergeant Haufnovik: No Sir…

//Commissar Behmonov: GET THE FRACK GOING THEN!

//Sergeant Haufnovik: You heard the Commissar, on your feet let's go! Double time!

//Guardsman Jacov: But what about-

//Sergeant Haufnovik: Leave him.

//Guardsman Jacov: But-

//Sergeant Haufnovik: LEAVE HIM!

//Guardsman Jacov: Yes sir…

//Guardsman Fichnik: Uhm sir, what the hell is that?

//Commissar Bemonov: Oh sh- GET DOWN!

Transmission ends

\\\


	4. Chapter 4: Withdraw

**//Protocol 21- Note from the Author\\**

**Hello thar, sorry for the massive delay in updating the story. I ended up writing myself into a corner, and after countless fruitless attempts at moving on with the pre-existing plotline I decided to completely renovate it, and hopefully thicken it. Into like.... soup... or something. **

**Cheers**

**Ethan**

**//End Protocol 21\\**

**Chapter 4:**

_Withdraw_

_I hate aliens. Honestly, If they're not trying to kill you they're trying to burn you. If they're not trying to burn you they're trying to main you. And if you're really lucky you get ones that one to do all that, and THEN rape you. Luckily the Eldar Pirates prefer to stick to molesting the navy, so a ground pounder like myself is safe in that regard. Instead I get to face gigantic green killing machines, xenos sorcery wielding Tau, and daemons that make the frothing insane Ork bezerker look like the most civil tongued Imperial Diplom-_

_**Tyco.**_

_-Which is quite a feat considering those golden tongued bastards are trained in ass licking from bir-_

_**Tyco!**_

_**Hm?**_

_-'nos loving scum. If it were up to m-_

_**Tyco We're done here for now. Pull out.**_

_-the lot of 'em. If there's one thing I can't sta-_

_**Are you sure inquisitor? I believe I can get him back on track.**_

_-traitors-_

_**No, I don't want to damage him. We've done enough as it is. Poor bastard will have the emperor's own migraine come tomorrow…. **_

_-But maybe that's just m-_

_**As you say inquisitor Give me a moment…**_

_**Heh…. I always do.**_

_/ / /_

Sanctioned Psyker Tyco Mathumba winced as he removed his hands from the old man's head. Sparks sizzled from the place where his palms once rested, casting wild shadows on the script laden walls of the Inquisitorial Chamber, dancing off the doors at the far side of the room. Tyco exhaled deeply, and then leaned back, sweating heavily. _Each time took more out of him… bits out of his self that he couldn't not afford to lose. If this wasn't so important…._

"Well done Tyco, well done indeed." A voice buzzed in his earpiece. The doors emblazed with a capitol 'I' slid open quietly, and in jauntily stepped Inquisitor Tiberius Makarov. "This certainly sheds a spotlight on things. Though frankly I think that Prometheus did a far more efficient job of relaying the information…" The Psyker glanced up and grinned at the jest, his puffy lips pulling back to reveal a gleaming set of teeth.

"Frankly, Inquisitor, you can blow it out your ass. Unlike Prometheus I don't believe that I'll be redecorating the walls of your interrogation chamber with my insides anytime soon. Besides isn't that what this metal strip around my head is for?" He rumbled in deep baritones. Only a few people could get away with talking to the inquisitor like that, and Tyco happened to be one of them

Tiberius gave him a pained look, which only cause Tyco to snort with laughter. Tiberius furrowed his brows, "True, the boy did have a nasty habit of exploding. And yes that's what its for, however its not always the most precise device…. Things built before the dark age usually aren't. Though I dare say a man in your profession has experience with the sort of thing. Sorcery, Daemons, Chaos, forbidden arts, technology lost and the likes?" Tyco shrugged

"Technology wasn't ever my strong point, nor will it ever be… chaos and sorcery and the likes? Well that's another story."

"Quite. Speaking of which are you all right?" The dark skinned man had suddenly bent over double, and was panting heavily.

"Just…. The aftereffects… It'll pass…" Tyco panted. Tiberius paused, staring into the flickering candle on the table next to the slab, seemingly choosing his words carefully. He glanced back at Tyco.

"Its getting harder isn't it?

"…Yes…." Then more urgently, "I'm not about to explode if that's what you're thinking."

"Of course. That's why you're here. I learned my lesson with Prometheus…" the inquisitor shuddered. " Which reminds me, did you like the bits of information I sent you?"

"Oh yes, very cryptic, very dramatic. I felt like I was in a damn holovid…" Tiberius shrugged in response. Tyco continued "Still though, they certainly helped fill in the gap where this old bastard's memory," He gestured to the gray haired man breathing shallowly on the stone slab in front of him, "left gaps. Though I must ask, what was with the exert from squad… oh what the hell were they called…. Chaffnovic or something?

"Hauffnovic. In due time my friend. As for the other tidbits, I felt the information would help things move faster. It took Prometheus several run throughs before he understood the sequence completely. Frankly I'm surprised you got it so fast, though that's not to say I'm not impressed, and not to say I don't lay partial praise at my own feet."

Tyco nodded, acknowledging the complement. Tiberius began again, "How soon will you be able to work on the next subject?"

"Soon," Tyco said, "give me a day and I'll be ready again. The process is… taxing, to say the least." Tiberius nodded in approval.

"So be it. This next subject will be interesting. Prometheus was possessed before we could move onto this one… from what I understand his story is interesting… to say the least." The inquisitor stated gaily.

"Joy." Rumbled the Dark skinned Psyker. He rubbed his hand over his bald scalp, suddenly feeling the weight of having been up for the past twenty-two hours. "Is there anything else I can help you with, or are we done here?" Tiberius looked hurt. Tyco merely snorted again.

"Fine, the review of the memory can wait. Get some rest friend, we have a busy day tomorrow…"

"Thank you Inquisitor. Good night Tiberius." With that Tyco half walked, half stumbled out of the interrogation chamber and into the steel plated hallway. Tiberius watched for a moment as the doors slid behind the Psyker, then turned back to the body on the slab. He stared at the heavily scarred features for a while, pondering what other memories he might find useful on the head of this man. Whatever they were they would have to wait… no need to kill him before his usefulness to the Imperium was up. He pulled a bac-stick out of his coat and put the cigarette in his mouth. He fished in the pocket of his trench coat searching for his lighter, then grunted in satisfaction as his hand touched upon cold steel. He pulled the flame maker out his pocket and flicked the ignition rune until the fuse lit. The orange flames filled in the crevices of his face with shivering light, as he raised it towards the bac stic. He made a face as he caught sight of himself in the black marble ceiling, his steel gray hair looking grayer than ever. _Eighty years in the service of the Inquisition… makes a man wonder about retirement sometimes_. He turned back to the general, and took a drag on his bac-stic, and stared into the man's face. The inquisitor blew smoke from his mouth, and then said to the man on the slab,

"Happy two hundred and thirty sixth birthday General Zatzaev."

And with that he turned and walked out of the room.

\ \ \

For a Psyker, searching for a memory is like trying to pick out a conversation on a crowded street. Oh you can do it, but be fully prepared to lose a fair amount of it amidst the chaos. And if half of that conversation is rambling musings on the nature of warfare, life, and death within the imperial guard then it becomes even more difficult to isolate that memory within the confusion. The thoughts, the memories, they weave in and out. You're not recalling specific thoughts, you're attempting to get the person to recall it on their own. Whatever they've attached to the memory, whatever thoughts, whatever dreams and whatever people they've attached to it will surface. And this can be both good, and absolutely life threateningly terribly to a Psyker.

-Tyco Muthumba's Personal Log


End file.
